


our mother has been absent, ever since we founded rome

by loonylu



Series: up the wolves 'verse [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Anxiety, Ballet, Canonical Child Abuse, Dancing, Depression, Dissociation, Domestic Violence, Gen, Gun Violence, Guns, Hypervigilance, Paranoia, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Stalking, Therapy, a little unrequited crushing on mick sorry benmick shippers, ben is having a bad time you guys, the twins are sixteen here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26848507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonylu/pseuds/loonylu
Summary: Ben pulls his jacket around him and shifts his bag on his shoulder. He’s being watched. Someone is watching him. He whips around, but no one is there. A streetlamp flickers and a car honks in the distance, but no one is following him. His therapist would call it hypervigilance, he thinks as he drags a shaky hand over his hair. No one is out to get him.or: sarah says she just wants to talk.
Series: up the wolves 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958491
Comments: 14
Kudos: 135





	our mother has been absent, ever since we founded rome

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This isn't gonna make a ton of sense unless you've read Up the Wolves, the first one in the series. Please be careful with this one - it gets pretty intense. Ben is dealing with a lot of PTSD symptoms and then Sarah, so pay attention to the tags. Thanks so much to lurking_umbra for beta-ing and assuring me i'm not being too melodramatic. Title from the Mountain Goats song Up the Wolves :)

“You sure it’s okay we’re not there?” Juno asks, pulling nervously at his hair on the comms screen projected over the kitchen table. Ben stands, using the back of the chair as a makeshift barre as he stretches.

“Of course,” Benzaiten says. “I know how much you want to go on this job, and it’s just one performance.” Ben falls into fourth position. 

“It’s already _so cool_ here, Ben. Buddy and Vespa’s ship is awesome. And they’re already teaching me so much! We’ll be on Venus in like, two days. I’m kinda nervous,” Juno says, looking away in embarrassment.

“Guess you’re finally a space pirate,” Ben teases, rolling his shoulders. 

“Fucking  _ finally! _ ” Juno throws up his hands. “I can’t believe Jet made me wait until I turned sixteen to finally start learning how to steal and smuggle and shit. Peter has been going on jobs with Buddy and Vespa for years now while we’re stuck on Mars. It’s not fair. I’ve had to hear all his smug little stories for years now while we’ve been stuck on this red dust ball.” 

“I like being on Mars,” Ben says, before he gets a wicked gleam in his eyes and leans down to the comms, chin in his hands. “Speaking of Peter, how is all of  _ that  _ going?”

Juno scowls. “He’s a jerk. As always.” 

“Yeah, Super Steel, I bet you think so,” Ben crows. “Or have you forgotten that lovely game of spin the bottle at Sasha’s party?” 

“Shut up!” 

“Never!” Ben sticks out his tongue. “Juno and Peter, sitting in a tree - “ 

“I am never telling you anything ever again,” Juno sulks. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ben says, and decides to change the subject before Juno combusts. “Is Rita having a good time?” 

“So far, yeah,” Juno says. “She’s mostly just doing the same computer stuff she does here, I guess.” 

“You know she’ll teach you if you ask,” Ben says, straightening up. 

Juno makes a face. “No thanks. I don’t want to distract her from her college classes and stuff.” 

Ben shrugs. “Suit yourself.” His therapist told him he can’t make Juno do things, even if Ben thinks it’d be good for him to learn.

“Is Mick going to come over after the performance?” Juno asks. “I feel bad, leaving you alone like that.” 

“Nah, he’s working, but he’s off on Monday so we’ll hang out then.”

“Is that Benzaiten?” Jet’s voice comes through, lightyears away. “Hello, Ben,” he says, coming into frame. “Break a leg at your performance tonight. I am sorry we cannot be there. I regret that the schedule of this job was set before your performance schedule was released.”

“You don’t have to come to every performance, Jet, I’ll be fine.” Ben rolls his eyes. Even now, Ben sometimes gets uncomfortable with how earnest Jet is. Lately, that’s come out as pretending he doesn’t care about Jet. He does, of course, it’s just sometimes hard to express without feeling like the world is crashing down. Juno has gone the opposite way, following Jet’s footsteps like a grinning shadow. Ben is still sometimes overwhelmed by how  _ weird _ his family is. 

“I know you will, and I’m very proud of you,” Jet says, interrupting Ben’s thoughts. “Juno, we have a meeting with the captain now. I’ve been sent to collect you. Punctuality is important in a thieving career.” 

“Oh, okay,” Juno says. “See you later, Benten!”

“Later, Super Steel,” Ben says. “Bye, Jet!”

“Be sure to keep the doors locked,” Jet instructs. “We may lose comms abilities for a few hours later this evening - you know that if an emergency comes up, you should call Alessandra. “

“I know, I know,” Ben says, waving him off. “Stay safe, you two. Bye!” Ben hangs up.

Then it’s quiet. The apartment is… really quiet. Ben doesn’t like quiet. It makes him think of those cold months at Jack’s house. He shivers. Jack really did a number on him. Sometimes it feels like if Ben gives himself a moment alone to think he’ll freeze over and shatter.

He needs to leave anyway. Ben slings his dance bag over his shoulder and locks the door behind himself. He can do his makeup when he gets there.

Oldtown is still Oldtown, so Ben doesn’t bother waiting for a bus that won’t show up. He walks up the street, waving to the Wires in their restaurant and not making eye contact with the dealer at the mouth of the alley. The community center is less than a mile away, and Ben appreciates the walk, even if it is cold. 

Ben pulls his jacket around him and shifts his bag on his shoulder. He’s being watched. Someone is watching him. He whips around, but no one is there. A streetlamp flickers and a car honks in the distance, but no one is following him. His therapist would call it hypervigilance, he thinks as he drags a shaky hand over his hair. No one is out to get him. He takes a deep breath and starts tapping a pattern into his thigh. Slowly, then picking up speed, he taps out I - AM - SAFE in Morse code over and over. Another idea from his therapist. He thought it was cheesy at first, but it helps. He keeps it up until he takes a deep breath and pulls open the double doors to the community center where the recital will be held.

***

Backstage is full of energy. Children run around, parents smearing them with makeup or frantically pinning tutus. His classmates Josue and Ayumi are taking charge of the eyeliner process for the advanced group, while poor teaching assistant Aster tries to round up the nine-year-olds into some semblance of stretches. But Ben needs to find Mx. Isidor, who is helping the twelve-to-fifteens warm up in the corner.

“Hi, Mx. Isidor,” Ben says, galaxy’s best smile on his face. “How can I help?” 

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Mx. Isidor says, coming out of a plie with a warm smile. “Can you finish taking this group through the warmup while I go deal with the littlest ones?”

Ben has a plan to start his dance career. He’s going to impress Mx. Isidor enough to become a teaching assistant, and then an apprentice, and then while he makes money teaching Ben is going to start auditioning for the Hyperion Ballet. And that starts with telling the twelve-year-olds to point their toes, so he does. 

By the time that’s done, Ben barely has time to pull on his costume and swipe on some stage makeup before herding the children to wait backstage. Ben and the rest of the advanced group will be going last, so Ben takes a moment to tie his pointe shoes perfectly before watching the little ones fumble through their routine. It’s cute. 

Ben gets the feeling someone is watching him, again. He shuts his eyes, breathes, counts to ten. This is stupid. No one is watching him, he’s just being hypervigilant again, it’s the PTSD. He’s  _ fine _ . 

Then a nine-year-old falls flat on her face during the seven-to-ten group’s lyrical number. She books it offstage, sobbing. Ben goes after her, of course, and by the time she’s calmed down and her mother has come backstage to collect her, it’s almost time for the advanced group’s ballet piece.

Benten likes to see the audience. Quiet, expectant faces that light up as Ben feels lighter - he dances because it feels like flying, but he performs because it feels like giving that feeling to his audience. Maybe that’s egotistical. He doesn’t know. He just knows he loves it. So as Ben does his grand jete out to center stage, he smiles. It’s all right Juno and Jet aren’t here, he thinks, since he’s doing this for himself. His head whips around to keep his balance during a particularly involved pirouette. Josue lifts him into the air, and Ben can see above the crappy community-center lights for the first time. 

Ma is there, in the back row. 

Ma can’t be there. 

Ma is there. Seated quietly, nodding along with the music, smiling, eyes clear. She looks the same as she did seven years ago, slamming Juno’s head down against the floor over and over and - 

Josue lets him down, and Ben does the next step without thinking, a perfect arabesque. He’s hallucinating. He has to be. Ma is in prison for what she did to Juno. Ben’s smile is perfect and he does not miss a step. 

Josue lifts him again. Ma is still there, expression unchanged. He’s not hallucinating.

*****

Ben doesn’t stick around for the bows, instead grabbing his bag and getting the fuck out of the theater as soon as he gets offstage. Mx. Isidor calls after him, but Ben needs to get out. It’s dark now, and all Ben can see is Ma in every dark alley or open window. If he’s fast, he can make it home before she can catch up to him. He can stick to the shadows. Maybe Ma doesn’t know where he lives. Or maybe Ma is waiting for him in the dark apartment. Ben’s breathing is shallow and fast, and his thoughts are racing. What if Ma is following him? He feels tiny and alone in the dark.

Ben takes a moment to clear his thoughts, push away the paranoia like he’s supposed to. The simplest explanation is the best. He doesn’t have to plan for unlikely things. Logically, it’s likely Ben’s mind was playing tricks on him; but even so, Ben should go home as fast as possible. He’ll be safe in the apartment. The streets are full of people, it never gets completely dark in Hyperion, and Benten is fast. Even if Ma is here, he can lock himself into the apartment before Ma could ever hope to get there from the community center. If she even knows where he lives. If she’s even here. 

He ends up sprinting home. One of Sasha’s dads yells after him, but Benten doesn’t catch what he says and doesn’t stop to find out. He’ll figure it out later.

He doesn’t breathe a sigh of relief when the deadbolt to the apartment - tested by Jet, so certainly secure - slides home. Ben sits heavily on the couch, not bothering to turn on the lights, trying to catch his breath. Juno would sit with him, help him count his breaths in and out. But Juno’s out in the stars, where he wants to be, and Ben needs to learn to take care of himself. He’s getting all worked up over something that isn’t even real. 

Ben pulls out his comms and thinks about dialing Jet or Juno, before dismissing that idea. He wouldn’t mess up Juno’s first job like that. It was almost certainly a hallucination. Ben’s nervous about being on his own, so his stupid brain decided to be scared of his mother again. 

She’d looked so real. She looked like he remembered her in the best times, when she read the best stories and did all the voices and remembered his favorite songs. He’d never admit it to Juno, but sometimes he misses her. Which is wrong, he knows, she’s bad and abusive, he shouldn’t miss her. He’s all wrong. He can’t even think right. Missing her is an affront to Juno. Another way he’s a bad brother. 

He needs to not be alone. He’s clutching the comms tightly. Ben is good at making friends - good at being charming and friendly and asking his friends questions while politely sidestepping any questions about his life. He can’t just call Ayumi and Josue and say  _ hey so my mom is in prison for trying to kill my brother and i thought i saw her, wanna hang out?  _ Mick and Sasha are the only ones who know the whole score. 

He hears a soft knock at the door and his stomach falls. He has to be imagining things. He’s got to be making stuff up. He scoffs at himself - can’t even handle a long weekend without his brother and guardian. 

“Ben?” The voice is Sasha’s. “My dad saw you running like someone was chasing you. Can I come in?”

Ben opens the door because he is selfish and she is there. Sasha is standing there awkwardly, hands in fists. “What’s going on?” she asks as she steps in. 

Ben locks the door behind her and starts to cry helplessly, sliding down with his back to the door, arms around his knees. Sasha doesn’t like giving hugs, so she crouches down and holds his hands. “My dad gave me the rest of the night off,” she explains. “You really scared him, running like that. Mick’ll be here in a couple of hours, once his shift ends.” 

Ben nods and tilts his head upwards, willing his tears to go away. He’s having trouble explaining. He needs to explain why he’s upset and then why it’s stupid he’s upset, and that will take so many apologies and it all just seems insurmountable.

“Did something happen at the recital?” Sasha’s bluntness can be helpful sometimes. 

Ben nods, clears his throat. “I thought I saw my mother,” he croaks out. “In the audience. Scared myself.” He wills himself to apologize for scaring her, but he can’t pull the words out of his stupid mouth. 

Sasha squeezes his hands. “I’m sorry,” she says, and sits with him. He shakes his head, because he should be apologizing to her, to her dad, to the whole world. 

***

He ends up falling asleep on the couch between Sasha and Mick, stream still running in the background. He wakes up gradually, head pillowed on Mick’s broad chest and hand still twined in Sasha’s. He feels safe with both of them, like everything might be okay. 

But it’s eight in the morning on a Sunday, and Ben feels panic rising in his throat. He relies on them too much. He’s too interdependent. He just falls into these spirals of fear and all he wants to do is to be held and comforted. He can’t keep doing this. Mick’s chest is warm ( _keep it in your pants, Steel_ , Ben thinks sternly. _Mick likes women_ ) and Ben feels so guilty at how relaxed he is after using Mick as a human pillow. He took Sasha away from the tips she needs, he took Mick away from sleeping in his own bed between shifts, he even thought of pulling Juno away from his dreams out in the stars. He’s so selfish. 

He disentangles himself carefully and tiptoes to the kitchen. He hates being alone in the mornings, hates being the only one awake, but he’s also an incurable early riser. He will not wake up his friends after all his emotional bullshit last night. (If it were just Juno around, he’d make some noise and see if he could draw Juno out, sleepy and grumbling. Jet gets up earlier than Ben does.)

Ben throws open the cupboard and considers. Juno’s the best at making coffee, always has been, so Ben goes for tea instead. The water has just started bubbling in the electric kettle when he hears a sleepy shuffle behind him. 

“G’morning,” Mick yawns, shirt riding up around his stomach. Ben looks away. 

“Want some tea?” Ben asks. 

“No thanks,” Mick says, stepping past him to find where Juno keeps the sugary cereal. Mick is tall. When did Mick get tall? Ben thanks his lucky stars Juno isn’t here to tease him. Mick is  _ straight _ , he reminds himself viciously. 

When Ben has his tea and Mick has his bowl of cereal and they’re sitting at the kitchen table, Benten can see that Mick wants to say something. He’s not subtle. 

Ben says “I’m glad Sasha can sleep in a bit,” at the same moment that Mick says “Do you want to talk more about what happened last night?” They both laugh, and Mick rubs the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” Benten says as earnestly as he can. “I just… got scared, I guess, and thought I saw, y’know, her.” 

Mick shivers. “That sounds so awful.” 

“I mean, I just made it up in my head, so it’s silly that I got scared at all,” Benten says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a little kid, I should be able to handle a weekend by myself.” 

“You don’t have to, though,” Mick says through a mouthful of cereal. “Me’n’Sasha, we’re here for you. Whatever you need, y’know?”

“Thank you,” Benten says, and means it. “But you don’t have to drop everything to hang out with me when I get like this.” 

Mick shrugs. “I guess,” he says, chewing thoughtfully, “but you aren’t doing anything bad by asking for help.” 

“I- “ Ben clamps his mouth shut and counts to ten. He won’t cry. If he asks for help he’s  _ selfish. _ There’s an infinite tally sheet of things he’s done for his friends and things his friends have done for him, and he’s so far behind he can never hope to catch up. He chokes down some tea to cover the silence. “Yeah,” he says lamely before changing the subject. “Is the bike messenger gig going better now since Rita gave you that new map thing?” 

“Oh yeah, I only got lost on the bike twice yesterday, which is a  _ huge  _ improvement let me tell you, I gotta get her something to thank her when I get my next paycheck - “ 

As the Sunday morning sun filters through the windows, Ben feels himself relax, fractionally, as Mick chatters about the weird deliveries he’s made on his death trap of a hovercycle. Sasha wakes up, after a while, but by then it’s late in the morning and all of them need to get to their jobs.

***

The studio is where Ben feels most at ease. It’s Sunday, which means there are no classes until the evening, and sunlight is pouring through the windows looking out onto the street. The mirrors are clear, and Ben could swear the air is crisper in here. Like every kick and turn slices through the air in a way it doesn’t anywhere else. Ben cleans the studio every Sunday in exchange for a discount on his lessons. (Jet said he didn’t have to, that Jet could afford the lessons, but Benten has a hard time taking Jet at his word sometimes. Just another thing he has to work on. His therapist says independence isn’t a bad thing, but trust is important, but Ben doesn’t know how those work together.) 

The cleaning isn’t bad, just mindless. It reminds him of how he used to clean at Ma’s when he was little. Making a stack of dirty dishes into a stack of clean dishes, and the sense of satisfaction in a task. The floor shines and Ben feels like he’s had some little impact on the world. It’s dumb, but Ben doesn’t have to worry about feeling stupid or selfish on Sunday afternoons. 

The best part of the job cleaning the studio is that if Ben hurries, he gets a solid hour of solo practice time. He usually uses it to choreograph new pieces, but today he doesn’t feel like he has the brain space to figure out anything new. Even though it turned out to be a hallucination, last night left him drained. 

So instead he marks out the ballet piece Mx. Isidor taught him last week. It’s got a tricky fouette, so he walks himself through that section over and over until his legs are burning and he can pretty much do it. Ballet’s precision can be so frustrating, and he can barely focus, so he puts on something catchier - some pop hit Juno would tease him for - and just moves for a bit, trying to get the constraints of ballet out of his system. 

He gets into it. It feels good to move without restriction, to flow and stop and turn as he wants. It feels like flying, so much so that he starts to cartwheel across the studio. Eventually, dizzy, he lays in the middle of the room and laughs, exhausted. His body feels alive. He is alive. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  _ Someone is watching him.  _ He jumps to his feet, scanning the window, before his stomach drops to the floor. 

She’s not even trying to be subtle. She’s standing outside the window, arms crossed, smiling gently. Ben’s skin prickles. She’s standing there so  _ boldly  _ that it’s hard to reconcile. 

Ma smiles wider -  _ fucking grins _ \- when Ben’s eyes meet hers. She looks happy, guileless, she doesn’t look murderous, she’s not stained with Juno’s blood. He wants to hug her. She points towards the door to the studio. She wants him to let her in. 

When she takes a step towards the studio door, Ben can suddenly move. Without his input, his legs start moving. He goes for the back door of the studio, wrenches it open, and he’s out into the back alley where Alexei kissed him last year before moving away. Like he did back at Jack’s, he scales the fence and he’s off running. He doesn’t look back. 

***

Ben is a fucking idiot. He left his comms, his backpack, all of his  _ stuff _ at the studio. He’s pacing a hole into the living room carpet, but he can’t get in touch with anyone. He can’t call anyone, nobody knows that he’s trapped here because he’s fairly sure he can hear her outside - is that her tapping on the window, or are the winds picking up? - and he doesn’t dare to go out. Mick and Sasha won’t see him this time, they’re both working and Ben didn’t conveniently run past the Wires’ restaurant on his way back from the studio. Ben is working himself into a panic. He’ll need to stay right where he is until she is gone. 

He thinks of Alessandra, telling stories about hiding in foxholes during the war.  _ It’s not so bad,  _ she’d said.  _ If you’re stubborn enough, you can outlast most things.  _ Ben despairs silently for a moment. Juno is the stubborn one. Ben isn’t immovable. He’s breakable.

Ben flops down on the couch. He needs to think logically. He puts his head in his hands. Ma is here. Ma is not supposed to be here. Jet will keep him safe. Jet is not here. Jet is at least one day’s spaceflight from here. With Juno, who should never, ever know this even happened. It’s all turning into a circle. Ma’s here, Jet’s not, Juno shouldn’t know. 

It’s fully dark by the time Ben manages to get himself off the couch. He’s going to - he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He’s not going to sit on the couch and he’s not going to be a burden and he is going to hunker down until she leaves unless a better plan shows up. 

He startles out of his skin when someone knocks on the door. Oh. He thinks distantly that he was right. She does know where he lives.

“Benzaiten, honey?” Ma must be just outside the front door. Her voice has always carried, no matter how quietly she speaks. “I know you’re in there. Your recital was beautiful.”

Ben says nothing. He keeps the lights off. He wishes he could call someone. He’s always wanted his mother to praise him. He never wants to think of her again. 

“Look, Benten, I know you’re there. I just want to talk to you.” Ma sounds tired. The kind of tired that makes Ben’s heart hurt for her even now. “I’m so sorry, Benzaiten. And I’m sorry for Juno too. I’ve missed both my little monsters so much. I didn’t get to see you grow up.” She takes a long, shuddering breath. "I guess I just hoped you’d want to see me again.” 

Ben doesn’t. He doesn’t want to see her, or think about her, or feel sorry for her. But he does all three. He’s not sure how much longer he can pretend not to be home.

“Benten, you need to let your Ma in, okay? I just want to talk to you.” 

Ben shakes his head, even though she can’t see him. He feels tiny. He feels like he is four years old and he’s run off to the Halcyon fountain without Juno. He can’t leave her there. She’s his mother. Even if she’s done terrible things, that’s still who she is. 

Her voice turns angry. 

“Benzaiten Steel, you open this goddamn door right now. I am trying to make amends to you, so you need to not make this fucking difficult, okay? I hate myself for what I did to you. You looked so happy, up there - my little monster. My sweet little monster, open the door, please. I know… I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I have to ask for it.” One, two, three heavy knocks. “I deserved prison. I deserved it for what I did to my boys.” 

Ben feels like he’s floating outside his body. “You did deserve it,” someone who is not Benzaiten says flatly. 

“Ben? Benzaiten? Oh, my little monster, I missed you,” she says, breathless. Ben thinks she might be crying. Or he is. He’s not sure. “Your dancing is so gorgeous, I’m so glad you kept up with it. Will you let me in, so we can talk about it?”

“No,” Benten says from a million miles away. 

“It’s just you this weekend, right? Juno and that man who takes care of you, they’re gone?”

It’s not said with anything but polite curiosity, but Ben’s blood runs cold. “No. Jet will be back in a few minutes. He just stepped out.” Ben is so good at lying.

“No, little monster, that’s not true,” she says patiently. Maybe he’s forgotten who he gets his lying ability from. “I saw Jet and Juno leave town on Friday.” She pauses. “I forgive you for lying to me,” she says with a hint of sarcasm.

Ben says nothing. He’s not sure he can.

After a minute, Sarah sighs. “Look, Benzaiten. Are you planning to open the door?” 

Ben doesn’t respond. When he was little, he used to hold very still and be very quiet in the hopes she might forget he existed. Sometimes he succeeded. Usually Juno blew their cover. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” She sighs louder. “Then I need you to know something. When the child protective people showed up at the prison and asked me about my brother, I went along with it. They’d told me fucking Jack was trying to take you two, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. I figured a total stranger was better than Jack goddamn Takano. It seems like I was right, judging by what I’ve seen of your lives now.” She laughs coldly. “I guess I was right about something, at least.” Her voice lowers to something conspiratorial. “But you need to keep in mind what I know. What would happen if everyone knew Juno lied? Where would they send him next?”

It’s overkill, he knows it, she’s trying to scare him, she’s always done this, always transparently preyed on his fears. It fucking works. Benten is close to tears. He can’t think straight. What would happen if Ma told? A litany of terrible things flash behind his tightly shut eyelids. He knows she’s doing it on purpose but that doesn’t change how much it scares him.

“Fifteen minutes,” Ma promises. “Let me see you for fifteen minutes, and no one will ever know about Jet.” 

Fifteen minutes to save their life with Jet. Ben nods, and then remembers Ma can’t see him. He turns the deadbolt and unlocks the door with shaking hands. He doesn’t open it, but Ma does.

She looks older. Her hair has gray strands, her eyes have more wrinkles around them. Her eyes are bright and wide and they look like his eyes, and Juno’s eyes. Ben had forgotten how much Sarah looks like Ben and Juno. Or, he supposes, they look like her. Maybe that’s why Juno keeps his hair dyed these days. His thoughts are splintering off and his near-murderer mother is standing in front of him. 

“Hi,” Ben says lamely. 

“Hello,” Sarah says, like she’s afraid of spooking him. Her bitten nails tap the strap of her purse. 

“Do you want some coffee,” Ben eventually manages.

“Yeah,” Sarah says quietly. 

They go into the kitchen. Sarah sits, unsteadily, in the chair Juno usually takes. Ben wonders fleetingly if she is sober while he measures out coffee grounds.

“Juno was always best at making coffee,” Sarah offers, breaking the silence.

Feeling like he’s breaking a rule, Ben keeps his back turned to her. “You wanted to talk to me without him there.” It’s not a question.

“After what I did to him,” Ma explains, eyes welling up with tears, “I can’t. I can’t do it. But I was never like that with you, Benten, I never -” she sobs, once. “I never did.” 

Ben whirls around, fixing her with his best glare. “That’s not how it works,” he says viciously. “You can’t try to kill my brother and think that you can get some sort of forgiveness out of me.” 

Ma is crying now, head in her hands. “I know,” she sobs.

And Ben was getting ready to yell, to tell her  _ you made my childhood a living nightmare _ , but he stops. She’s pathetic, crying into the tabletop that Ben and Jet refinished last year. The coffee cup on the counter was a gift from Juno on Jet’s birthday. The coffee maker has a smiley face sticker that he’s sure Rita put there. Sarah is in his home, surrounded by things and memories that she had no hand in creating, where his family lives.

He has a family, and he has a mother, but his mother is not part of his family. 

“Ma,” Benten says, and his voice sounds steady. “I think you should go. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want you to follow me around any more.” 

Ma’s head snaps up. “You don’t want to see your own mother?” she hisses. Ben takes a step back, pressed to the kitchen counter. Ma stands up, and she’s exactly his height but Ben feels like he’s six years old again, hiding under beds and in cupboards to get away from her. 

“Ma,” Ben says again, “I need you to leave.” His voice is louder. “You can’t be here.” He takes a breath and focuses all his energy into lying flawlessly. “If you don’t go, I’m going to call the cops.” 

For a moment, Ma looks like she’s going to lunge for him, like Ben will have to struggle and scrabble for something on the kitchen table to get away - it all plays out in a moment in his head - but she doesn’t. She takes a deep, audible breath, and settles back into her chair. She turns to her side and fiddles with her purse for a moment too long to be innocuous.

She pulls out a simple laser pistol and holds it casually in one hand, finger on the trigger. It’s not pointed at him, but it could be. 

Ben freezes. He slowly raises his hands in the air like they do on the streams, and Ma laughs. 

“Sit down,” Ma says gently. “Nobody’s gonna get hurt. I love you, Ben, I’d never hurt you.” 

He sits down. His head is full of white noise. 

“...make amends. Ben? Little monster. You were always a little spacey.” It’s affectionate. The gun is pointed at the ceiling. Ben has no idea what she just said, so he nods. 

A car backfires, down the street, and Sarah startles so badly she puts a smoking, charred laser hole through the wall that he and Juno painted with Jet two summers ago. “Fuck,” she says, running a hand over her face. “These things are sensitive. Sorry, little monster.” 

She keeps talking, but Ben feels like his reaction is delayed. The adrenaline blooms over his face, down his spine. Terror settles in the pit of his stomach. She might kill him. It might be an accident. 

“I love you and your brother more than anything else,” Ma says through Ben’s hazy brain. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.” Her voice fades back into the sea of adrenaline. 

Two summers ago, Jet taught a self-defense class at the local community center. It was mostly middle-aged moms dragging teenagers with them, but Ben remembers it so clearly right now. The mats on the floor smelled like sweat, and the windows were all fogged up, and Ben could hear kids playing basketball outside. Jet looked at him with big, calm eyes, asked him to help demonstrate to the class how to get out of a few different holds.

“May I grab your collar for the purposes of demonstration, Benzaiten?” he’d asked in his low, low voice, and Ben agreed. “May I take your arm for the purposes of demonstration, Benzaiten,” he’d asked next, and Ben rolled his eyes. Jet asking permission before invading his personal space seemed dumb. It seemed so dumb, but Ben is trying to remember the move Jet taught him to disarm someone. 

“Thank you, Benzaiten,” Jet had said after the end of each demonstration. Ben felt weird afterwards. He feels weird now. Everything is weird and Ben can maybe remember how he’s supposed to knock a gun out of someone’s grip. 

He has to wait for an opening. He’s good at that. He’s so good at waiting and watching for the right moment. He did that at Jack’s mansion, and he’ll do it here, and he’ll do it every time an adult tries to hurt him or leave him alone to rot. 

“...you two were just such a handful, I - I couldn’t cope,” Sarah confesses as Ben tunes back in. He’ll have to time this perfectly if he wants it to work. She’s going to look away, wipe her eyes, and he has to move quickly, perfectly, like landing a grand jetee. 

And then there’s a knock on the door, loud and sharp, and Sarah jumps, swinging around to point the gun at the door. Ben leaps over the table, knocking her to the floor and scrabbling for the gun. Sarah struggles, writhing, and the gun goes off once, twice, both times missing his head by inches. 

“How dare you,” Sarah wails, “You fucking monster, how dare you.” The banging on the door has become the steady thuds of someone trying to break it down. 

Ben is surprised to be stronger than his mother, but he is, and he wrests the gun away, sliding across the linoleum. He gets an instant to flip a switch he thinks will switch the gun to a stun blast and then she’s on top of him and he doesn’t mean to but he does. 

The gun goes off, and Ma falls on top of him. 

He can’t tell her heartbeat from his for one long, terrible moment, and then he feels it, fluttering in her bony wrist. He hasn’t killed her. She’s alive. She’s alive. Ben can’t tell if he’s laughing or crying. She’s alive, and he’s alive. 

The lock finally breaks, and Mick is silhouetted in the doorway. Mick. Sweet, strong Mick. “Oh, Ben, I was - I heard a shot -” he says, babbling with uncharacteristic seriousness.

“Just stunned her,” Benzaiten assures him before very abruptly passing out. 

***

Fourteen hours and many broken laws of space travel later, Jet and Juno run, breathless, into their own apartment. Alessandra has long since hauled Sarah away, but that’s not who Jet cares about anyway. Mick has explained the situation to Alessandra, who has explained the situation to Jet and his new stomach ulcer he’s pretty sure he’s developing.

Juno rushes to Ben, who is staring blankly into space. Mick is next to him, holding his hand. Juno shakes Ben by the shoulders and starts babbling apologies and explanations and whatever else. Ben doesn’t respond, eyes on the middle distance. Jet stays, frozen, awkward, by the door. 

“I did what you said, Jet,” Ben says, slowly looking over at him and blinking owlishly. “From the self defense class. It didn’t work right.” 

Jet chuckles, then cries, and then Ben cries too. “May I hug you, Benzaiten,” he murmurs.

“You did the right thing,” Jet says quietly once Ben is wrapped firmly in his arms, so only Ben and possibly Juno can hear. “You kept yourself safe.” 

“I - I - I didn’t think I saw her,” Ben sniffles, then sobs. “I didn’t do it right. I can’t do anything right. I keep thinking I’ve messed everything up and I’m imagining things and I’m so stupid but everything scares me so much, it scares me so much but I can’t tell anyone, and I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry -“ 

“You stayed alive,” Jet says firmly, cutting him off. “This is the gift you’ve been given.” He pulls back. “The people who love you will help you. We will help you figure out your path forward.” He takes a deep breath. “I love you, Benzaiten.”

“Love you too, Jet,” Ben whispers. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i really wanted to flip the script of Ben deciding to take action and stand up to Sarah in a way he couldn't in canon. i hope you enjoyed!


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